Meant to Be 145 popular feature there is Trail Bay Boulevard, a street several blocks long, with a promenade where people can walk by the seaside. A block from the town center, it’s a convenient place for locals and visitors alike to stroll anytime. As he drove Alexis home, she said, “And what do you think of my little sister?” He thought for a moment. “I think she’s quite special the way she interacts with people and does things in such a smooth and easy way. She seems very confident and capable.” “Cute, too, eh?” He nodded slowly. “She’s definitely easy on the eyes. How old is she, if I may ask?” “Too young for you,” she replied, with a twinkle in her eye. “Wait a minute. How old do you think I am?” “Oh, I don’t know. You’re in great shape so it’s hard to tell. Forty-five?”
Meant to Be 146 “Close enough. So, really, how old is she?” “Her birthday is on the sixth of November.” (she paused) “Oh, what the heck … she’ll be forty and don’t tell her I told you.” Brad put up his hand. “It’s okay. She already told me she was thirty-nine when she arrived here. I was just testing because many women seem to find it difficult to fess-up their real age. So when is your birthday?” “Oh I've already mine … March twentieth. And while on the subject, when’s yours? He laughed. “I can’t remember the last time I was asked … January twenty-third.” “An interesting time of the year. By the way, how much work do you plan on doing at her place? She said you could see things that needed doing.” He scratched his arm. “Some of what I really need to do, the daily-use things, I’ll give her a hand with. Beyond that, who knows. Why do you ask?”
Meant to Be 147 “I could see you two getting involved to the point where you’re spending a lot of time together. I think you’re attracted to her, and she likes you, too. And I, of course, won’t be a consideration in any way. I’ll be happily living in Mexico. Besides, you treat me as if I’m your sister. I just want to say I appreciate it very much. You don’t unnecessarily complicate matters.” He looked at her, thinking about what she said, but left it alone. “In your current mode of transition, the last thing you need is intrigue.” “Thank you, my dear. You’re so right.” As he saw her condo coming into view, he said, “By the way, what’s Meagan’s last name? I never got it when we were introduced.” “It’s Atherton, an old English name. If I didn’t have a son, I might've changed my married name back to it like Meagan did.” “I didn’t know you had a son.”
Meant to Be 148 “Oh yes, he’s a very talented young man who lives in Palo Alto, California working in the Tesla car company’s design area. It’s been almost a year since I last saw him. He says he’ll visit me in my Mexican home. He also tells me he’ll buy me a Tesla car someday.” She laughed. “We’ll see. In the meantime, we keep in touch.” Arriving at Alexis’ condo, Brad again admired the huge southwest panorama taking in the Salish Sea and Vancouver Island. When he parked the car, they sat for a moment gazing at the waterscape. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she enthused. “You and I both have such nice views.” “I like how yours reaches out into the Salish Sea. I’d have a large telescope on a tripod checking out the cruise ships, (he laughed) and maybe even who's onboard.” She chuckled. “Well, I don’t have the same curiosity as you do, but I do have a small, threepower opera glass that lets me see if it’s an ocean
Meant to Be 149 liner or ferry.” She looked at her watch. “It looks like I've less than an hour to get ready to go to Meagan’s. So I’d better get going. She leaned over and gave him a cheek hug. “Thanks for lunch. Let’s talk soon.” He drove away thinking about what he had appreciated the first time he met her, she being a strong woman, confident, determined, and aggressive to achieve what she wanted. She was very unlike Meagan who seemed to favor nuances, while giving little away. Before driving home, he picked up a few groceries. As he left the store Will walked in, nodded quickly and carried on, obviously not wanting contact. It left Brad wondering why he'd make it so obvious. It’s probably because Meagan doesn't fawn on him like Alexis does. And Meagan and I are friends.
Meant to Be 150 Chapter Eleven When Brad turned onto his driveway, his cell phone alerted. Minutes later he stood in the kitchen reading a text message from Karen. "Dear Brad –– I have just finished work, and I thought I’d pass along some thoughts. I've been thinking of the irony of my wanting what is considered to be a normal and loving thing, yet it’s what drove us apart. I now know we are two different people in so many ways, and our separate aspirations will keep us apart. But I just want you to know that I valued our time spent together. The time was not wasted, and I'll cherish the memories. Love, Karen" He had looked forward to a quiet evening, but he began to excavate old feelings now overlain with new realities. He set about stripping their relationship down to an essential truth: they had conflicting goals that were only a problem when permanency came into question. Yet there were component issues as well. They were often like ships passing in the night,
Meant to Be 151 both busy on selected courses, taking whatever time was necessary. It had increasingly become likely that conflicting thoughts about their future together would eventually set them apart. He nevertheless appreciated Karen’s sanguine note that no longer placed blame. It sounded heartfelt and sincere and took some gumption to send. He thought about what to say to her. "Dear Karen – Thanks for your message. I appreciate your honest candor about how we arrived at this point. It’s hard to know what more to say. I want to tell you I've purchased a house in Sechelt quite near the water, which is what I've always wanted. It’s a welcoming community, and I look forward to becoming a productive part of it. My wish for you is a future with abundant health, happiness, and success, and I know you'll achieve it all. Love, Brad" With his groceries put in the cupboards and fridge, he sat on his recliner and began to relax. His
Meant to Be 152 eyes again took in the two larger-than-usual holes in the wall where the previous owner had hung a tapestry. He put aside the urge to get the Pollyfilla and returned a call from Chris. They agreed to get together at the pub Friday night. That evening, Alexis arrived at Meagan’s place with a bottle of Okanagan Sauvignon Blanc wine, one of their favorites. “Meagan, I have to tell you I ran into Will at the liquor store a while ago. We had a brief chat, and he managed to wheedle it out of me that I was going to your place this evening. You won’t believe this, but he said he might drop by. But before I could say it wasn’t a good idea, he left the store.” Meagan looked aghast. “That’s the last thing I want. This is supposed to be our night. I don’t want him showing up here. He always wants to be a good boy scout and be helpful, but he only wants to spend time with us. In fact, his self-important and arrogant attitude makes me feel uncomfortable, like having a
Meant to Be 153 big spider in the room. I shouldn’t have let him help us paint; it only encouraged him. And I think there’s another side to him that we saw when he took delight in shooting Brad down with his supposed better repair expertise. He wants to look more handy. Plus, I think he’s jealous of Brad, especially his helping me in the kitchen. If he comes here tonight, I’ll tell him this is our night, and you can back me up.” “You should also tell him it’s polite to visit only if invited, saying it, of course, in a friendly yet firm way like you mean it.” As if in a queue, there was a knock on the door. The women looked at each other, startled – it couldn’t be! Meagan went to the door, opened it, her mouth dropping as Will stepped forward. “Hi Meagan, hi Alexis. I was driving by on my way home when I thought I’d stop and pour you ladies a drink of Jamaican rum before your movie.” He had obviously been drinking, and he now imposed himself heedless of just how insensitive his actions were.
Meant to Be 154 Meagan stood in front of him, barring further entrance. “Alexis and I are having a girl’s night, and I’d appreciate it if you'd let us have our evening without interruption. And we don’t want your rum, thank you very much. We’re having wine.” “So you don’t want me to even have a short visit? You girls can drink your wine while I have a drink of rum.” “Will, listen to me,” she said, now freely showing her annoyance. “We don’t want other company tonight. It’s a girl’s night with girl talk and all that. So you’ll have to have your rum at home… okay?” “You’ve probably got mister smoothie coming by, is that it?” Will taunted. “I’ll be really pissed off if I see his car here tonight, and who would blame me?” She looked at Will piercingly. “Okay, Will, no one else is coming tonight, so please go.” Alexis stood firmly beside her, with an arm
Meant to Be 155 around her waist, proud of her sister’s determined demeanor. “Or what are you going to do, beat me up?” He laughed as he stepped out the door. She could only shake her head slowly. “Can you believe it? I suspected there’s something nasty in his makeup, hidden behind his mask of helpfulness. Now I've seen it.” Alexis dropped her arm from Meagan’s waist and sat down. “I think it’s mostly because he’s had quite a bit to drink tonight. After that bit of drama, I could use one, too.” Meagan went to the kitchen, poured two glasses of wine, and set them on her coffee table. As they sat sipping their wine Meagan said, “Sometimes the men who want to be nice and helpful are the ones most bent out of shape. They were spoiled when young and haven’t grown up with mature thought processes. They’re used to having things their way and still think they’re special. When Will realized he wasn’t going to have things his way
Meant to Be 156 about things, he became resentful and accusing.” “Because you were infertile?” Alexis said. “The whole story is we didn’t seriously want to have children until several years after we were married. Then my chromosomal type of infertility was diagnosed, and that’s when he went off the rails, saying we had waited to have children and now this. And he wouldn’t adopt a child. It had to be his own offspring. Then I heard that he and a woman at his office were having an affair, obviously the reason he often came home late at night – ‘important meeting.’ That’s when–––” “Your husband was a self-centered idiot,” Alexis interjected. “That’s when I began developing an exit plan. I slept in the guest bedroom while Adam fumed and threatened. Then one night he tried to enter the bedroom, but I had the door blocked by a chair.” “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he shouted. “I told him I wanted to stay away from him
Meant to Be 157 because as far as I was concerned we we’re through. That’s when he started calling me names: a quitter, not a real woman, a partial woman. The next day I put the rest of my plan in motion, phoning my friend Gail to say everything was set. I'd move in with my personal items that day. Then I left a note for Adam who was at work. I told him I was going to stay with Gail until I got my own place. So I settled in with her, and several days later I hired a lawyer and began divorce proceedings.” Alexis nodded approvingly. “And what did Gail have to say about it?” “She said she’s seen worse. And now that I had seen a worse side of Adam, I didn’t know how much worse it could get.” Alexis shook her head. “I've heard of men being concerned solely about them being dumped. It didn’t fit their picture of their worthiness, their manliness, and they’ll get her back no matter what it takes. Men like that can indeed become dangerous.”
Meant to Be 158 Meagan put up her hand. “I read up on the subject and saw nothing surprising. They will sometimes spy on the woman to know what she’s doing and if she’s seeing another man. I knew the best thing was not to give him a chance to meet for discussions, make it clear it’s over-with.” “When was the last time you heard from him?” “It’s been about a year. Plus, we’re now divorced. I’m so glad it’s over. It’s such a worrisome waste of time and energy. I’ll bet Brad wouldn’t be like that.” “Well, I think that’s a safe bet,” Alexis said, knowingly. “You like him and I do, too. He’s intelligent, considerate, and fun to be around. We had a good time today shopping at The Brick. He bought a washer and dryer, and we had lunch at Molly's Reach Restaurant. When we came back, he showed me his house.” “How nice,” Meagan said lightly. “Maybe someday I can see it, too.”
Meant to Be 159 Then, seeing a look of impatience on Alexis’ face, she changed the subject. “By the way, I've been meaning to ask you about something you said regarding Will being at your place a while ago to do some repairs. What kind of repairs?” “I told him about my lamp not working. He insisted on fixing it. So he did, and I made lunch. He acts like he knows me because he sees me coming and going at your place. He’s easy to have around even though he’s not much of a conversationalist … a bit narrow in that category. But all in all, I find him to be a reasonably attractive man-child from whom I expect nothing exceptional.” “Do you find him sexually attractive? Would you invite him over for the night?” Alexis laughed. “What a question. I really hadn’t thought about it. Not seriously, at least. And how about you and Brad, can you see a hot relationship developing?” Meagan thought for a moment. “I don’t know if
Meant to Be 160 I’m ready for a hot relationship after what Adam put me through. But, yes, I’d like to get to know him better. He seems quite special.” Alexis nodded. “He’s a decent kind of guy who has shown he has a good heart. I can see you two getting together, and who knows the outcome? It is said that as with grief and happiness, you never know when to expect love.” Meagan looked surprised and smiled. “Even so, I could understand it if before you go to Mexico you and Will have some sort of dalliance. Something of the moment and then … zip … you’re gone.” Alexis laughed. “Though I might consider Will a boy toy, I could really fall for Brad, but he’s too much man for me to trifle with.” Meagan thought for a moment and quickly said, “Let’s have another glass.” At the pub Friday evening, Brad and Chris, as usual, talked about hiking, the upcoming hockey
Meant to Be 161 season, and like all men, they talked about women, in the present, the past, and the foreseeable future. “So, Chris, how long were you married?” “I married at thirty-six; my wife Carolyn was twenty-nine. After five years, we divorced last year. We had no children because neither of us really wanted children. At least one of us should have been more domestically dynamic.” “Strange how things work out. The differences between Karen and me are what ended it. She wanted children, I didn’t. I already have a grown son and daughter. I’m forty-nine, and Karen’s at an age when many single women begin to think about their waning child-bearing years. My thinking about early retirement added to the improbability of starting child rearing. There’s no way I wanted to start a family again. In fact, I’m perfectly comfortable spending a good amount of alone time. What Wordsworth describes as the joy of solitude.” “I’m happy in my own skin, too. But you know
Meant to Be 162 as I do that it’s nice to have a woman in your life to round it out and have the comforts that come with it, even if she’s just a friend, at least some kind of relationship. It’s been a year, and I've only recently recovered from the loss and loneliness of divorce.” “Haven’t you met a woman since you’ve been single that you could start a relationship with?” Chris put down his glass. “It’s not easy to find a good match. For instance, Sechelt has one of the province’s largest populations of seniors, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. I've had drinks with a couple of women in the hiking group, but nothing’s come of it. As I get older and they get older, we become more… what’s the word?” “Sidelined, jaded?” Brad laughed. “I’m not sure, but what’s missing are truly romantic feelings that get things started, the fuel for the fire. I’m a romantic, maybe an incurable romantic. And in the past year, I haven’t met a woman who exudes any romanticism or sex appeal. What I mainly
Meant to Be 163 look for, at least in the beginning, is a woman with intelligence, cordiality, and good humor. Good looks and sex appeal are icing on the cake.” As Chris described the woman he'd be attracted to, Brad’s mind went to Meagan. She was that kind of woman, the kind of woman he wanted to get to know better. Chris picked up his glass and said, “Have you met anyone since coming here?” “I have. Her name’s Meagan, sweet person, attractive and intelligent. The funny thing is that I met her sister first.” As they finished their dinner, Brad went on to tell how he met Alexis and how she introduced him to Meagan. He told about her house, the work done, and how much more he wanted to help her. Chris smiled. “Sounds to me like you’ve already got some pretty strong feelings for the woman.”
Meant to Be 164 Brad looked at his empty glass and nodded. “Yeah, I do.” “I can tell. Consider yourself lucky.” They paid their dinner bills, and as they walked to their cars, Chris said, “I’ll send you an email with information about next Monday’s hike. It’ll be a good one.” Brad waved. “Looking forward to it.”
Meant to Be 165 Chapter Twelve Brad always savored his Saturday morning coffee, a time to relax and think about what to do for the rest of the day. On such a morning, a glance over the coffee cup rim centered once again on those two nail holes in the wall. Unlike other times, there was no excuse to do nothing about them. He finished his coffee, got his Pollyfilla, and carefully filled the holes, keeping within their circumferences and smoothing them carefully. Hours later, with the Pollyfilla fully set, he got out the small can of paint the owner had left for touchups. When the spots were painted and had dried, they perfectly matched the rest of the wall. Good job, he thought. He had also been meaning to phone Eric and Connie and, finding their number in the phone book, he made the call. Connie answered. “Hi Brad, it’s nice to hear from you. I’m sorry you just missed Eric. He went downtown and won’t be back until lunchtime. He’ll
Meant to Be 166 call you back. You’ll have to come and visit us soon.” “Hi Connie, I’ll look forward to his call, and we can set something up.” After saying their goodbyes, he began his plan for the day. In the afternoon, he bought the parts needed for Meagan’s fix-ups. At Home Hardware, he bought twenty-eight adjustable hinges and the Oring. He next went to The Brew House. Adel not only prepared an excellent espresso, but she also made him feel welcome, like he was a long-time customer. The shop had become one of his favorite stops, mostly for her flavorful coffee. The first time he went there, he asked for a regular coffee with a shot of espresso, what she called a shot in the dark. This time, wanting to try something stronger, he asked for a long double espresso. She smiled and handed it to him, saying, “Here you are, a long-pull double espresso.” “Is that what it’s called?” “A long double espresso is good, too,” she
Meant to Be 167 replied, with a warm smile. As usual, when he left the shop, he felt uplifted and inspired by Adel’s bonhomie. And she was so easy to look at. While walking to his car, he felt the next part of his agenda should be a long walk. He drove to Kinnikinnick Park and hiked the orange trail twice, a total of six kilometers. It felt perfect. Much of his fitness behavior began in his school days where his competitive athletic side showed itself; he reveled in fitness challenges. In his adult life, he had certifications in karate and scuba diving, and involvement in things from hockey and football to hiking. By the time he turned fifty, he had only minor injuries to show for his sporting involvements – little to complain about. Later that day, Eric phoned. His goodwill and friendliness were exactly what Brad needed. He wasn’t yet well socialized. Eric invited him to dinner the following week. He suggested Wednesday at five o’clock and said Brad needn’t bring anything to drink
Meant to Be 168 – he had ouzo, wine, and beer. The invitation came as a surprise, and it warmed Brad to know he'd again be spending time with them. He next phoned Meagan to set up a time to install the parts he bought. She took his call while in the middle of making dinner. He didn’t tie her up with extraneous conversation, and they agreed to meet at one o’clock Sunday, her day off. After speaking with him, Meagan continued washing vegetables, thinking about his friendly and easy way of communicating, a big change from her husband Adam. He either talked too much or, in the final year of their marriage, sometimes not much at all. Now, being truly freed from a hurtful past, her only thoughts of it were things that reminded her of the differences – such as Brad. He was a special kind of man she never expected to meet, especially in a small town. But, she thought (smiling) miracles could happen, and looked forward to getting to know him better. When she met Brad, she saw a man with an
Meant to Be 169 open and positive attitude. The first time he talked to her, she could hear who he was, a man not only intelligent but also sensible and caring. And he didn’t zigzag and play games like some other men she met. He came across as a genuine article, helpful and easy to be around, and with a great sense of humor. His good looks were easy on the eyes, too. Seeing him and being around him aroused something in her she hadn’t felt in a long time. She loved the sound of his voice, a smooth baritone. She had to admit to herself that even on the phone with him she sometimes felt aroused. The trouble was that she didn’t have the confidence to do something about it. Adam had demeaned it out of her. She had nevertheless begun telling herself to begin trying. Forget Adam’s words. Now was the time to do it. Since the day they met, Brad’s feelings for Meagan had become increasingly awakened. He felt enlivened by her graciousness, warmth, and personality, her wholesomeness and beauty. She
Meant to Be 170 was like a jewel found in an environment that doesn’t promise treasure. The kitchen fix-ups would be an opportunity to get to know her better. I won’t be flattering, something she’d no doubt be accustomed to hearing, he thought. He'd instead maintain a sensible amount of sangfroid. On Sunday, he drove to Meagan’s house keeping an eye out for Mason. His release could be anytime soon and, if he showed up in Sechelt, Brad wanted to meet him head-on. No surprises. As he approached Meagan’s door she opened. “Hi Brad, one o’clock, you’re right on time. Would you like a coffee before you start?” He stood with his toolbox in his hand and a smile on his face. “That sounds great, but how about if I do some work first? Coffee in say an hour or so?” “Alright, at two or two-thirty,” she said. “And while you’re being productive I’ll paint some trim. Call it an inspired project. You’re a good influence. Not that I’m lazy, but one can get so used to seeing needy
Meant to Be 171 things that they almost disappear.” “No kidding. I had a couple of large nail holes in my wall that I finally got around to filling and painting yesterday. By the way, how was your girl’s movie night? Did you enjoy the movie?” “Well, the evening had an added performance. I don’t want to get into it right now. Let’s talk about it when we have coffee. Give me a shout if you need anything.” He unpacked the O-ring and hinges, wondering what the added performance could possibly be. Could it be something she and/or Alexis did or said? Were there things they had to settle, or did someone else enter into it? If someone else, who? With these thoughts in his mind, he walked to the kitchen sink, turned off the water, took the faucet apart, and replaced the O'Ring. With the water turned on, the faucet was drip-free. Then he began replacing old hinges with the new, adjustable ones. By the time Meagan returned to the kitchen a little more than an
Meant to Be 172 hour later, most of the new hinges on the bottom doors had been installed. “Wow, that’s fast work. Ready for coffee?” “Sounds good.” Now feeling the closeness of the two of them together in the small kitchen, he felt the same warm body flash and quickening of the heart that took him by surprise the last time. For Meagan, the same feelings were becoming more intense than she had ever felt before with any man, including her husband. She thought, as she often did, Why the hell did I marry him? Brad once again helped her reach for the cups. As he stood beside her, he became infused with her aura and fragrance, a bouquet of femininity. She suddenly turned to him. “I want to pay you for the parts. Did you bring the receipt?” “I did,” he said, reaching into his pocket and handing it to her. She went to her bedroom, came back with money, and sweetly said, “Keep the
Meant to Be 173 change” – it being seventy-five cents. He chuckled, “Thanks, big spender.” Meagan smiled and poured two cups of coffee. “Go ahead and add what you want, then we can relax in the living room.” As they sat on the sofa, she told how Will had shown up. “He simply knocked on the door and walked in as if he had been invited. Alexis and I were both shocked, especially when we realized by his composure and way of talking that he had been drinking quite a lot.” “Was he in any way threatening?” “No. He said he wanted to pour us a drink of rum and couldn’t understand why we refused it. When I asked him to leave, he got quite snooty and asked if you were coming. I think he sees you as the reason I don’t want him around. I don’t want him around at all,” she emphasized. Brad put down his coffee cup and looked at her.
Meant to Be 174 “You shouldn’t have to guard against a guy who hasn’t the common sense to be polite and know when he is or isn’t wanted. I actually wondered why he'd be here painting.” “He’s a really busybody and often goes by on his walks to who knows where. When he saw me get out of my car with pails of paint, he stopped and asked me what I was going to paint. When I told him, he said he had done a lot of house painting for a construction company he once worked for and said he’d be glad to help. So like a fool, I agreed he could help Alexis and me do it. She likes him a lot. She even encourages it sometimes with the things she says. And, as you know, she has let him be her oncall repairman. She likes him, thinks he’s cute. Never mind the fact he can be quite out of tune.” Brad snickered. “Well, I know he has an attitude. I saw it when I met him on painting day. He acted like a herd bull defying the competition, definitely not friendly. I saw it again the other day in
Meant to Be 175 Clayton’s Market. He hardly acknowledged me.” Meagan shook her head. “That’s too bad. But come to think of it, I've been made to think of him when I've heard unusual sounds around the outside of the house late at night.” “What kinds of sounds?” “I’m not sure. Sometimes it’s so vague, I think I might be imagining it. Then at other times, there’s a slight tap or scraping sound along the wall … maybe not scraping, more like something brushing against the wall.” “So what do you think it could be?” “I don’t know, maybe raccoons. I’m told they apparently like to dig around houses looking for insects and mice. Someone said even deer will lurk around houses at night if they smell certain kinds of vegetation.” “Has it ever frightened you?” “Yes, I thought there could be someone lurking
Meant to Be 176 outside my bedroom window. One night I even huddled under my blanket like a child afraid of a bogeyman.” “You shouldn’t have to put up with something that is upsetting. Keep track of the sounds and when they happen. As a matter of fact, when you hear them, phone me, quietly of course, and I’ll be here in five minutes to check it out. Even so, I don’t think you’re in any danger at all.” “Thanks, Brad. I really appreciate your concern and willingness to help.” “The main thing is don’t let things worry you. Security is close at hand,” he said with a grin. “Now I've got more doors to finish. I can keep working, but I don’t want it to get into your dinner time, so I’d better get at it.” She raised her hand. “Why not make it our dinner time? How much longer will you be?” “A couple of hours should do it.”
Meant to Be 177 “You keep going, and when you finish, we’ll have a drink and relax … unless you have other plans tonight, of course.” He shook his head. “I've nothing planned, and thanks.” As he walked to the kitchen, he turned. “By the way, how long have you been hearing these sounds?” “Oh, about a month or so.” As he installed the hinges and realigned the doors, he thought about what Meagan had told him. It wasn't that damned Mason. He hasn’t been released yet. When all the cupboard doors had been hinged and adjusted, the couple had their drinks and conversed as though they had known each other for years. They later sat down to a dinner that happened to be one of his favorites – beef stew. He complimented her, saying it had been one of the best
Meant to Be 178 he’d enjoyed. He said, “My mother used to make a lot of beef stews. It was my dad’s favorite, and mine too. Yours is in the same delicious category.” Later, when he was about to leave, she stood in the kitchen opening and closing some of the cupboard doors. “The doors open and close so nicely,” she enthused. “I can’t thank you enough. I should have also paid you for your work.” “You could cover that with something as simple as another stew. Call it quid pro quo.” “We can definitely do that,” she said as they walked to the door. There they stood, each feeling the heady drug of attraction and the disquiet of heightened emotions. Unlike Alexis, who would have enjoyed a hug and a kiss, Brad’s feelings in the matter were stalled by Meagan’s inscrutable persona that spoke of patience
Meant to Be 179 – a definite case of je ne sais quoi. As he drove away, he replayed the fact that he hadn’t done anything that would suggest he didn’t respect the nuances of getting to know this beguiling woman. He had been warm and friendly, not foolishly aggressive. In fact, both had played their hands well, and both were falling in love, adding yet more fuel to whatever fate had in store for them.
Meant to Be 180 Chapter Thirteen When at Eric and Connie’s house for dinner on Wednesday, Brad was quickly reminded of the comfort he felt in being with good friends. “Welcome, Brad,” Eric said. “We were looking forward to seeing you. It seems like a long time since you were last here.” “Glad to be here,” he happily chipped in. In the living room, he again sat on the exquisitely made wooden chair with its intricately embroidered seat. He ran his hand over the finely shaped and highly polished arms. “I was impressed with this chair the last time I sat in it. You said you made it?” Eric turned and pointed. “Right there in the shop by the house. I make furniture, actually anything made of wood.” “Well, I see a lot of nice things when I go into furniture stores,” Brad said, “but I don’t recall seeing
Meant to Be 181 anything as stylish as this chair. Not only the style, but the wood as well. What kind is it?” “It’s Brazilian Tiger Mahogany. I like it because it has a good variety of grain colors and patterns, and it’s a very hard wood. It takes more work than most others, but it’s worth it.” Brad stroked the wood again. “Absolutely, if it ends up looking like this.” He looked at Connie, “And the embroidery compliments it so well.” “A small contribution compared to what he put into it,” she said. “He can sometimes work up a pretty good sweat trying to get the wood to cooperate. I’m sometimes tempted to hose him down.” Eric chuckled. “True enough. Especially on a really warm day. So Brad, we have beer, wine, and the Greek prince of drinks, ouzo. What’ll you have?” “Ouzo sounds good, with a bit of water, please.”
Meant to Be 182 “Connie, you’ll have the same?” “Yes, dear.” As they relaxed, the conversation focused on Brad’s previous life and work in Vancouver, and quickly turned to his being in Sechelt. He told how he came to be there, how he was tired of big-city business and the pace of life. He outlined what he liked about living on the Sunshine Coast – the natural environment, walking and hiking in it, the sloweddown pace – and how he planned on staying in it. Eric said they’d lived in Sechelt for sixteen years, coming from Toronto where he worked for a furniture manufacturer. Like Brad, he wanted a change, a new start. His customer base now mainly consists of specialty-furniture stores and appreciative individuals. Connie had worked at the Urban Mode furniture store, where they met. As dinnertime approached, Eric took charge of preparing barbecued sirloin steaks and baked potatoes. The meal included Connie’s sumptuous
Meant to Be 183 shrimp salad, with home-made baklava for dessert. Dinner was enjoyed with lively discussions covering a range of topics, much of it about Brad’s plans and expectations. After dinner, Eric asked him if he'd like another drink. Connie stood up and walked to the kitchen. “Or tea or coffee?” Both men settled on tea. “That’s three teas. Be right back.” As Connie left the room, she turned to Eric. “I've fed Plato, so he’ll be civilized if I let him in.” “Sounds good,” he replied, and turning to Brad said, “You’ll like him.” “You’ve really got my curiosity now. Who’s Plato?” “He’s our good buddy out on the back porch; he’s been very polite while we had dinner. He’s sure to be happy to see you. He’s not rambunctious, so we don’t have to worry about him being a nuisance. Here he comes.”
Meant to Be 184 A large Black Labrador Retriever, his tail wagging, went straight to Eric. “This is Plato. He’s been with us for eight years. He’s well trained and is a perfect gentleman … well almost perfect.” “I haven’t been up close to a Lab since a friend had one years ago,” Brad said as he studied the dog. “It looked exactly like Plato. He sure loved that dog. He named it Major.” “We love Plato, too, and he loves us, don’t you?” he said, looking at the smiling dog. Connie came back and sat down. “The tea will be ready in a few minutes. Come here, Plato.” The dog walked to her, and she stroked his head lovingly. “Go say hi to Brad.” she said, pointing. Plato calmly walked over, sniffed his knee, and got a pat on his head. “Plato’s an important part of our family,” Eric said.
Meant to Be 185 Brad nodded. “I think my friend Dave felt the same way about his dog. But he ended up giving him away. I should say reluctantly and sadly gave him away.” Eric looked startled. “Why would he do that?” Brad sat back. “When Major was five months old, Dave took him along when he visited a friend’s farm. His friend’s dog and Major soon went on a romp together and Major never came back.” Connie hurried to the kitchen. “If you’re telling a dog story, wait until I get back with tea.” She returned minutes later, and Brad continued. “When Dave lost Major, he was devastated. He drove everywhere looking for him and asked people around town if they had seen him. He later contacted the newspaper and began placing a lost-dog ad with Major’s photo. Several weeks later, a woman from a neighboring town phoned to say she saw the ad, and it might be his dog she had found wandering beside the highway. He limped badly with what turned out to
Meant to Be 186 be a fractured leg, probably from being hit by a car. She said she took the dog to a vet who set the leg and put it in a cast.” “At least she had the sense to get the leg looked after,” Eric interjected. Brad nodded. “Dave asked the woman if he could see if it was his dog. She somewhat hesitantly agreed and they made an appointment for him to go to her house the following day. On the phone, she had stressed how much her six-year-old daughter loved the dog. She said her husband had died the previous year and the dog had made the girl’s life so much happier.” Eric winced. “Ouch, that sounds like a hint – don’t come.” “Dave said he felt nervous going to the woman’s house, not knowing if it'd be difficult to get Major back.” Eric snorted. “I’d damn well get him.”
Meant to Be 187 Brad continued. “At the house the next day, the woman ushered Dave into her living room where the little girl, Lisa, sat on the sofa holding onto Major’s collar. She called him Max. But get this, the dog showed little if any recognition of Dave. Needless to say, he was shocked and disappointed. A vet friend of his later told him it isn’t a surprising result when a young dog with a traumatic injury is fawned over for a period of time by people like the little girl and her mother. Dave showed his photo of Major, pointing out his white-spot chest markings that were the same as the dog Lisa held.” Connie looked aghast. “So there was no doubt that the dog was Major, did the mother not see it?” “She did, but the little girl said some dogs must have the same markings, and she began to cry as she held onto the dog’s collar. When the mother told her the dog really did belong to Dave, the little girl sobbed ‘no … mommy … no …’ Dave said he began to feel like an intruder. And the mother began getting
Meant to Be 188 teary-eyed seeing her daughter’s tears. Anyhow, the mother took hold of the collar and made the little girl let go.” Connie shook her head. “That must have been tough.” “The girl went screaming no, no to her bedroom, with the dog trying to follow her. The mother held the dog’s collar and gave Dave its leash. The woman, he said, looked distraught. He thought she'd break into tears at any moment. When he left the room he began almost pulling Major to the car. He said he felt as if he was stealing a dog that not only didn’t know him but didn’t even seem to belong to him. In the car the poor thing stood confused. Dave lifted it in.” When the car started, the dog began whimpering. Dave patted its head and talked to him, but the dog didn’t seem to hear him, it heard something else. Then Dave heard it, too. He turned and saw Lisa running from the house wailing,
Meant to Be 189 ‘Maaax, Maaax’. Then she dropped to the sidewalk on her knees, sobbing pitifully with outstretched hands, crying ‘nooo, nooo, Maax, noooo.’” Connie put her hand to her face. “You’re going to make me cry.” Brad said, “Dave sat there stunned by the little girl’s emotional appeal. It put him in a turmoil wondering what was the right thing to do. He could see that the dog had become as much Lisa’s as his – her love and care – and then the loss of her father and the happiness Major brought to her. The only conclusion he could come to was that she needed the dog as much or even more than he did.” Eric leaned forward. “Don’t keep us in suspense.” “To Dave there seemed to be only one thing he could do to solve the situation with a clear conscience.” Eric leaned further. “And?”
Meant to Be 190 “He simply opened the car door and watched Major bound out into the little girl’s arms. He said he walked back and saw the happiest little girl and dog he'd ever expect to see again. He said he knew he’d done the right thing when he saw the girl’s joy. Her mother was in tears and shaking her head in disbelief and happiness. He said at that point he couldn’t help being a bit teary-eyed himself.” “Wow, I could never give Plato away like that,” Eric said. “He’d rather give me away,” Connie quipped. “Eric, you might do it, too, if the dog no longer knew you. But the difference here is that Plato’s been with us for eight years. He’d always know us even if we were away for a few months a year, or more.” Eric nodded in thought. “Still, quite a story, makes me appreciate having him even more.” “Yes, he’s our boy,” said Connie, looking fondly at the dog. “And now, Brad, can I get you some more baklava?”
Meant to Be 191 “No thanks, Connie. I’m full up and happy to relax and chat. I really don’t know much about you and Eric yet. One thing I’m curious about, do you have children?” Eric slowly nodded, “We had a daughter who died in a boating accident years ago on Lake Ontario.” “She was only twenty… a beautiful girl,” Connie said, and looked at Eric as if for emotional support. “Well, it shouldn’t have happened,” Eric said emphatically. “The boat driver had little experience. One evening at high tide and when it was almost dark, he drove under a low pier and crashed. They both died.” With sincere feelings, Brad said he was sorry and had heard of it happening before. Connie said, “What about you, Brad? Do you have children?” “Yes, a daughter. She lives in Vancouver.
Meant to Be 192 She’s like me, single, and we visit back and forth.” “Don’t you have a serious other?” Brad smiled accommodatingly. “I did have, but after three years together, our different expectations put a kibosh on it. She was thirty-seven, wanted to get married and start a family. At this stage of my life, I didn’t want to start another family. Other than that, we had a good relationship and could have remained together. So we finally tried a one-month trial separation to see if either of us would change our mind and I ended up coming here alone. End of story.” Eric nodded, sat lost in thought for a moment, and looked at Brad. “Would you like another ouzo? I’ll join you if you do.” “I normally would, but I’m a bit tired tonight. And I don’t like to drive even if I've had only two drinks unless I’m staying the night.” Connie smiled. “We have a guest bedroom
Meant to Be 193 should it ever be needed.” “There could be a day when we have more than two drinks you know,” Eric said. “There’s such a thing as the Greek mid-February Carnival Season. It’s similar to Mardi Gras in New Orleans. We invite a few of our local Greek friends over and watch some of the events taking place in Greece. My parents were born in Skyros. I'm a first-generation Canadian. Connie’s something like fifth.” “Oh, poo, I’m third generation. How about you Brad?” “I’m third generation. In the late eighteen hundreds, my great-grandfather was a Nova Scotia merchant seaman who used to buy and sell goods up and down the Atlantic coast all the way down to Argentina.” “That’s a coincidence,” Eric said. “My ancestors were sea goers, too. Shipping and fishing. Skyros is an island, so it’s a usual kind of business.”
Meant to Be 194 “I think I've inherited the seagoing urge,” Brad said. “I love being on the water. And near it, too. I thought about buying a boat in Vancouver, but decided not to get weighed down with more things. Now, being here makes me realize having a boat wouldn’t be such a bad idea.” “I think it's easier to rent a boat sometime,” Eric suggested. “Remind me to buy a life vest,” said Connie. Eric lowered his brow. “My dear, you can float perfectly well. I've seen you many times.” “You can float a heck of a lot higher than I can.” He laughed. “Sometime we’ll have to talk more about our ancestors and boats. I’ll show you some photos.” For Brad, the evening had been replete, with an excellent dinner and the company of a couple who were husband and wife, and friends, too. They liked to touch on a broad range of subjects, sometimes